The next day we arose early (9am) and went for breakfast. We left at 11am. Our destination was ultimately Rishikesh, but over some roads reccomended by a German on a Bullet Enfield.
2 hours and 80km later, I realised that I had left my wallet containing all my cards back at the hotel. Marc continued onwards to find a hotel whilst I backtracked, nursing a nasty Indian cold.
During my backtrack I was ambushed by a cow who jumped out from behind a parked car whilst I was passing through a small town. I screamed and grabbed the front brake, too much front brake. I fell over. Fortunately I was only travelling at 5 mph. Coincidently, there was also a festival in the town attended by several thousand Indians who happened to be on either side of the road. They all watched whilst I quickly righted my bike, hopped on and buggered off.
I retrieved said wallet and set off back again. At sunset I was back where I originally started. Marc text me the gps coordinates. Only 30km away. Not too far. Marc also text me that the pass I had to traverse was also only 3000km high. 1 hour later and I was only 20km away on what can only be described as a dirt track, going upwards, in the dark, with a runny nose and lots of achy bones. Thankfully there were no other vehicles stupid enough to ride over a mountain that night.
My view as I traversed the mountain.
Upon arriving at the hotel I asked for guy in the restaurant to cook me some sort of curry. He looked at me blankly. 'Omelette?' he said... I agreed, too tired to argue, then went to bed.
The next day we set off over the hills. There were lots of hills. In fact, they were more like mountains. We went up them, over them, round them, under them and eventually arrived at sunset at a town called Rohru, on the banks of a river. Not seeing any hotels and spotting that the river had lots of sandy beaches, we bought supplies and attempted to make our way to a suitable spot. Just as it got dark we negotiated our bikes down a steep path down a cliff face and onto the rocky river shore. That night, we didn't bother with tents and just slept on the sand which interspersed the rocks. I also discovered that the curious Indians appear to be scared by people who speak German... I have a new trick up my sleeve.
Once again, we set off the next day over the hills and again there were lots of them with lots of twisty dirt roads going up, over, round etc. At sunset we had managed to leave the hills behind and make it to the next province and about 70km from our ultimate destination, Rishikesh. We decided to push on. 2 pantwettingly hours later we managed to make it to this touristy place on the side of the Ganges.
Today, after tinkering with the bikes for a bit, we went for a walk. We wandered down to the river and bought a ticket for 10 rupees for the boat to the other side. This was because we couldn't figure out how to get to the bridge 50m away. 10minutes later and 100 people full, the small boat chugged to the other side. Indian families laughed and screamed as they splashed each other with the holy water. I attempted to avoid getting wet, or a disease.
On the other side we found our way to the beachy shore where we were immediately set upon by an old woman selling tubs of flowers. We didn't speak Hindi and she didn't speak English. This didn't stop her managing to sell us two tubs which we were prompted to set on fire and push out into the current as some sort of good luck ritual. We were the only ones. Mine drifted downstream for 10 metres, hit some rocks and sank.
As we were proudly watching our offering to the gods we were slowly set upon by several other old ladies and small children. Not happy that we had begrudgingly bought some boatythings already and contrubuted to water pollution (funny how littering is enforcable by a 500rupee fine but anything holy is exempt) they attempted to sell us more and followed us up the beach. Eventually after 100m they had given up save for an extremely persistent small boy who's only words of English were, 'one hundred rupees please I go'. Marc and I made the best of an annoying situation by passing him from one to the other for 500m until I won the game by shouting 'is that 100 rupees in your hand Marc?' and running out of sight over some rocks.
We relaxed for an hour or so on a beach whilst I attemped to do handstands and build a castle.. The Indians watched me suspiciously for this whislt they splashed themselves with holy water. I watched them as I attempted to not get wet, or a disease
We set off back across the newly discovered bridge where once again I managed to collect a small child who wanted 100 rupees for some small round diseased looking things that they kept trying to put into my hand. After 5 minutes of random conversation about monkeys and the weather I pointed at a tourist couple passing the other way and announced loudly 'they want some!' I won that game too. The couple weren't very happy on their evening stroll.
Indian people are slowly making me very angry when I'm on the bike. Everytime I stop the first question is usually a polite conversation opener, such as 'how much.' At first I said 'one million rupees' until Marc pointed out that this is $22,000US. I've now decided to start saying 'guess' to all questions. I'm looking forwards to the 'guess' game.
They also have problems avoiding touching things. If I ask for directions, they will come and lean on the bike whilst they talk to you. They look surprised when I physically lift them off. Earlier tonight I was sat next to the bike when a guy came over and asked if it was mine. I said 'no' in order to avoid the inevitable conversation and he promtly went and grabbed the handlebars and shook the bike. I shouted and asked if he had a wife. He looked confused. 'Can I touch her?' I asked. He looked shocked and ran off. I don't know how much of India I will be able to tolerate.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment